Open RP Post

[centuriesinspired]

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[centuriesinspired]

"Felih, I promise you, I'm fine--"

He hadn't lied...he simply didn't tell. There's a difference. Isn't there? Felih doesn't think so and that's what matters more, what makes the Exarch's stomach twist with further guilt. Any attempt he makes to explain either stumbles early or Felih doesn't let him even try to finish, only continuing to pull him along.

Lyna had watched, almost completely impassive, as the Warrior of Darkness all but pulled the Exarch along by his ear and chastising him all the way into the Tower. It's been so long since seeing her smile like that.

The thought scatters when Felih calls him 'darling'. To hear his name from the man was one thing but that...the Exarch doesn't know what to do. An ache swells with in him and makes his eyes burn all over again as Felih suddenly turns and holds him.

"...I am so...so very sorry," is all he can manage, voice trembling as he lifts his arms, hesitates, and then puts them around Felih's shoulders.

[seasoflight]

Felih melts into that embrace the moment the Exarch returns it, ears pinned back against his hair as he tucks his head under the other man’s chin in an affectionate bunt, soft chirps of relief leaving him.

“I asked you so long ago- when we first met- did you find anyone in the tower, did you find G’raha Tia- and you lied,” he says, voice wavering. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He doesn’t pull away, not yet. “Welcome back,” he murmurs quietly. “It bears repeating- I’m glad to see you awake, my darling.”

[centuriesinspired]

Perhaps there was one lie...

The Exarch's ears droop and his tail tucks close to his ankles, only just visible under the tattered hem of his robes. He'll apologize as much as it takes, until his voice fails him, if only Felih will forgive him. This isn't how it was meant to happen, he'd have spared Felih all of this grief...

But that was impossible the moment Felih first called him by name. The Warrior of Darkness remembers. Remembers him. The man he'd held in such dear regard since the very first. Little wonder that the Exarch's voice cracks as he breaks into tears again, burying his head in Felih's hair and fingers clutching. It's unbecoming a man his age but it's far too much even for him to bear.

"...I, I would dream. As I slept in the Tower. It was so long ago but hearing you now...I remember hearing you then, as well. How deeply I wished to hear you say those words upon my awakening..."

[seasoflight]

Felih holds him tighter, even his long tail coming around to cool and wrap around the other’s legs.

“I left you letters,” he murmurs quietly. “I wonder- did they survive the ravages of time?” The endless letters he’d left in a protective bubble by the tower’s entrance, where G’raha had bid them all farewell before sealing himself away. Detailing his adventures, his hopes, his fears, his well-wishes for G’raha and the future. “I ached to see you again. I hoped that we could make the world suitable for the tower’s reawakening- so I could see you wake, but I knew that most likely I would never see that day... all I could do was leave you letters.”

“I sang of you,” he murmured. “We all wrote it down- about the tower, about you.” Felih delighted in performing for others, singing and dancing and letting his body and song tell all manner of stories. “I sang. I wonder if the songs made it through time, as the ones your own family passed down through the ages.”

[centuriesinspired]

The letters, no. The elements were relentless over those long decades to say nothing of would be scavengers, attempting to pry open the doors of the Tower in the 8th Umbral Calamity's aftermath, long before the Ironworks had learned how. The songs...

Oral traditions can be surprisingly resilient but not immutable. Meanings had been lost, lyrics changed, and when he'd heard the poems recited they spoke of a hero. The hero as all had come to know, the one whose exploits in the Crystal Tower were but a minor interlude in a larger epic. For a moment the Exarch can say nothing, only stand mute as the realization dawns on him.

"Oh, Felih," he finally says, eyes still glistening but a smile returning as he admits it. "By the time I woke, they sang of you."

[seasoflight]

Felih hears the words, but it takes him several long moments to process them. His ears pin back, and before he knows it, there are tears running down his cheeks and stinging the cuts on the skin there, heart aching even more now.

"I-I..." he murmurs, voice breaking and weak. "T-They weren't supposed to." His hands come up to cup the Exarch's cheek, gentle, a thumb brushing over his cheekbone, over the bits of crystal there too. "I wanted them to remember you..." They must have somehow, at least, for in the end, folk found a way to open the gates and wake its slumbering guardian.

[centuriesinspired]

He hadn't meant to make his hero cry again though this time he feels brave enough to reach in return, his still normal hand gently wiping away the tears as they fall. Careful of the cuts and scrapes, his next instinct is to try and use some healing magic to mend some of those surface wounds. Yet even that is more than his weary body can manage and the aether ebbs away at his fingertips, likely doing nothing more than tingling Felih's skin.

The Exarch clicks his tongue and sighs, what a mess they are.

"Pray, do not blame yourself," he says, voice gentle and smile soft. "That your light would shine so...of course the people would look to it, would sing of you and re-tell your story over and over again. You give the world so much hope, Felih. The part I played may be small but I cherish it dearly, I always shall..."

[seasoflight]

There is so much Felih wants to say- so much he could say. But all of it is thrown out the window when he feels and sees the Exarch's attempts to heal the wounds on his cheeks, and he laughs weakly before shaking his head, trying to blink away his tears.

"Y-You sentimental fool," he murmurs quietly, before reaching up to cup the Exarch's hand against his cheek. "First of all, let's get us both washed up and healed... and I'll do the healing, darling. You've been through too much already." He looks at the man with adoration. "To your chambers? Let's get a shower running and rinse all this blood and grime off of us first."

If Felih is aware of the intimate implications of such a request, he certainly isn't showing any sign of it.

[centuriesinspired]

The Exarch's heart lifts as Felih's hand covers his own--only to catch in his throat at what the man suggests. The left hand is the one he reached out with, the one Felih now holds. His right, the one of crystal... He does not like to consider himself self-conscious. He never went out of his way to hide what bonding to the Crystal Tower has done to him--is doing to him. But the extent of it...quite suddenly he finds himself uncertain of what his hero would think if he were to see it. He is not the man he was, though the pair of them never went beyond fond words back then. Will it matter to Felih?

Whether it does or does not the Warrior has the right of it, if left to his own devices he's more apt to curl up and sleep for a day than see to his wounds. The Exarch can feel his face warming, his gaze briefly falling before he can recover.

"Ah...as you say," he concedes, turning to lead Felih deeper into the Tower. Beyond the Ocular and Umbilicus to his own, rarely used chambers. Even here there are more tomes than anything, but there are a few luxuries adapted from the old Allagan fixtures, including a bath and bed.

[seasoflight]

Felih smiles weakly, relieved that the Exarch allows him this.

"Thank you, my darling," he murmurs quietly, nuzzling into that hand once more, even going so far as to kiss the palm before he slowly pulls back, tugging him along. "Come. We'll draw a bath- or a shower? Which is it?" he murmurs, before starting to shed his attire. Sturdy mage's robes and armor, but nonetheless filthy with blood and dirt and sand, and Felih is glad to finally take the things off so he can wash them. (But later. He intends to bathe himself first.)

Exhausted and drained as he is, he did not hone his healing skills just to ignore the need to use them. His hands are aglow with aether soon enough, still holding G'raha's hands, and he lets the energy flow into his companion's hands. He's half-undressed and his robes are caught at his elbows, shoulders bared and chest exposed, the sash still needing to be untied before he can be stripped completely. Felih's usually meticulously-groomed mane is a mess, tousled and out of its braid, locks falling all about over his shoulders and around his face in waves.

"Twelve," he murmurs, pausing to look up at him, stepping closer, almost close enough to nuzzle their noses together. "I've missed you so. All this time, you were right here..." His smile is watery and his eyes glisten, one hand letting go of the Exarch's to reach up and heal a few cuts on his cheeks, with gentle brushes of his fingers over the jaw and cheekbones. "Hiding under that cloak of yours."

[centuriesinspired]

It will be a bath, a deep basin of familiar blue crystal built into the corner of the room. All it takes is a thought from the Exarch for the Tower's magic to get to work, gradually filling the basin with heated water. It's a lucky thing he remembered to spare that thought in the first place after that seemingly innocuous kiss to his hand.

The Exarch had...checked in on Felih in his suite from time to time. Through the scrying portal. Never for more than a glimpse or two but he'd be lying if the temptation wasn't there, deep down. Yet he never gave in, never let himself trespass on the Warrior's privacy that way. And now here Felih is, showing him exactly what he'd been avoiding seeing, without even a second thought. In that moment the dirt fades away, the mess of Felih's hair becoming something wild and beautiful, and the warmth of his magic serves to make his heartbeat quicken. By the time Felih steps in close he's nearly forgotten how to breathe, every scrap of the composure he's built up over the decades evaporating in an instant. Hiding his identity had been the right thing to do but here and now, hearing the ache in Felih's voice...

How could he have been so cruel?

"Forgive me," he whispers, eyes closing and head bowing, pressing his brow to Felih's. Carefully he brings his hands up, flesh and crystal both, to cover Felih's where they trace over his cheeks.

[seasoflight]

The moment their brows press together, Felih's purr steadies and he nuzzles their noses together, soft little chirps and trills spilling from his lips, huntspeak that all says the same thing: relief, joy, affection. He stays close, eyes shut, and simply listens to the Exarch- his long-lost friend.

"I never forgot about you," he murmurs. "I wrote you letters- though they apparently didn't survive... I sang of you. Told your story, made sure the books and records were safe and passed down through time... there were so many songs I wanted to sing to you. I learned so many, during my travels."

He bunts his head more against G'raha's, foreheads and temples and then against his hair, and his shoulder, under his chin- just bunting all over him and trying to let their scents mingle, even if they're about to just wash it all off anyway.

"I had so many stories to tell you," he laughs weakly, his smile watery. "But I suppose I'm lucky, now, to have the chance again..." He tucks his head under G'raha's chin, and moves his hands to instead loop over his shoulders, hugging him close. "Let's- let's get into the bath. We- we both need to clean up before I can heal you up properly."

[centuriesinspired]

The mystel of the First are so far removed from the miqo'te, most so accustomed to life in cities that things such as huntspeak are entirely unheard of. Even in his youth, G'raha Tia had not used nor heard huntspeak since leaving home...until he met Felih. Hearing the sound again stirs at the Exarch's heart much the same way as hearing the man call him by name does.

The Exarch's next breath is an unsteady one as he wills himself not to start crying again. Instead he does his best to return the call, purring warmly and returning the bunts and nuzzles, even as it turns his face redder and redder with abashed joy.

"The lives you touched passed your stories on and...I confess I know more than a few by heart," he says, letting out a brief laugh at himself. "But to hear them from you, that is something I would love. Very dearly."

He almost hesitated to use that word, to call it love. It's true to how he feels but it's not one that he ever let himself use. Not even in his foolhardy youth. Not even though it was true then as well. Even back then part of him recognized that the Warrior of Light was someone special, would go on to do greater things. Why that meant he shouldn't reach out is harder to pin down though after all that's happened? He at least does not feel that fear quite as much.

Whether that's courage enough to get naked in front of the man, well...he's going to have to try.

The bath is more than ready for them, all that remains is to be ready for it. With one more press of his brow to Felih's the Exarch leans back, just enough to reach between them and see to the tattered sashes of his own robes.

[seasoflight]

“I would be honored to share any stories you’d like,” Felih murmurs back at him, still purring away, so content and relieved. G’raha’s pale skin makes the blush so easy to see, and he can’t help but smile and feel warmth and affection blooming and welling up in his chest at the sight of it. “The stories, the songs, the dances- the magic!” Felih suddenly laughs, almost spinning around his friend in his exuberant delight. “You’ve learned so much since we last met... I could learn from you, too.”

One last bunt and then he has to draw back as well, stripping himself of all his attire, completely bared. Granted, he’s a mess of blood and dirt and wounds, and he imagines G’raha to be the same- so his first priority is cleaning them both up and healing his beloved friend.

“Come... we may have to refresh the water once or twice, considering the state we’re both in,” he says with a weak laugh. “Take it easy, G’raha. The wound is still fresh, and I have half a heart to scold you for all the reckless magic you used despite your weak state...” he frets, tugging the other Seeker to the water. He’s incredibly relieved this tub is so big- but then again, this tower used to belong to Allagan royalty, so of course the bath was luxurious and huge.

“And we can find some clean attire to wear afterwards... can I borrow a robe, when we’re out?” His touch is endlessly gentle, fingertips running over G’raha’s forearm, hands, his side and shoulders, trying to tug and coax him into the water while still staying close enough to support him, should the Exarch’s strength falter.

[centuriesinspired]

The Exarch's ears flicker as he follows Felih's exuberance, wishing to dance with him--the sort of urge G'raha might not have thought twice about following through on. It stirs his chest, emboldened by that old name, but where the spirit is willing... The warm draw at least eases his nerves about undressing even though he lacks the energy to do more. The sashes come undone and fall away and, with Felih's help, the black robe underneath is lifted up and off.

They're both in a state, blood and grime and salt from the long swim back dried onto their skin. Even the crystal claiming him has lost much of its sheen. It flows up his right arm and over his shoulders like a mantle, blue branching out over his chest and down his sides, only coming to a stop above his hips. The worst wound the Exarch has, the one Emet-Selch had inflicted atop Mt Gulg, has been partially seen to. Felih may chide him all the more but the Exarch had little choice. Without spending the aether to try healing himself he wouldn't have been able to escape and summon aid. Another thing the Exarch had to do. His tail sways low near his calves, a bit of guilt coming through in his smile.

"Ah..." That name, again. "...scold away, Felih. It is certainly deserved...though I find it difficult to regret being able to come to your aid at the end."

The gentle and guiding touches do their work, the Exarch led to the edge of the water. Slowly and carefully he sits on the tub's lip, holding in a wince as he bends to remove the last bits of his clothing. The leathers around his left arm, his sandals, and finally his smallclothes. "And of course...anything you need."

The water will refresh itself, thanks to the Allagans. A good thing because the moment the Exarch sets a single foot into the warm water it starts to muddy.

[seasoflight]

Felih's just as much of a mess, but he tugs and guides the Exarch into the water with him, and he's so very swift to take the soaps and lather up his hands, before starting a very thorough rub-down of his beloved friend. Starting from the neck, and working his way down over his shoulders and torso and arms, trying to free him of all the filth they're both a mess of.

"There's no point in scolding you if you're already this apologetic about it," Felih laughs softly, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek before murmuring, "But I was worried sick for you. I went down there just to bring you home, you know..." And to die, but G'raha doesn't need to know that, because the others caught him trying to sneak away and stopped that from happening.

Twelve, he loves his friends so...

Felih is fussy and determined to get all the grime off his companion. And the moment he's gotten his torso clean, his hands get to work healing the wounds he finds, his hands warm and aglow with soothing, restorative aether.

"Just relax... it'll take a while for me to mend this wound, considering its severity... You patched it up for the time being, I see- but I'll tend to it fully."

[centuriesinspired]

Just to bring you home... The Exarch lowers his gaze, smiling, eyes glistening once more. There's nothing he can say for a time, quietly letting Felih work. He can at least help, cupping the soapy water up to his own face and gently cleaning around his eyes and cheeks, ears twitching each time a cut is bothered too much. Yet Felih is so gentle and so quick to move on to the healing that it's not really a bother at all.

He lets out a soft sigh as, finally, the pain that had become a constant backdrop these past several days fades away, replaced by the soothing warmth of Felih's aether.

"Thank you, Felih," he says. "For this and...for everything." Coming for him, too. He doesn't imagine that he's the only reason Felih traveled to the Tempest, he couldn't have let Emet-Selch go unchallenged, but that his hero worried about him so... His friend. His dear friend...

The water ripples as the Exarch leans forward, pressing his brow against Felih's shoulder while the man heals him.

[seasoflight]

Felih keeps working on him gently, and he starts to hum familiar melodies as he keeps healing him up. He's glad the water is refreshing, steadily growing cleaner even as they scrub themselves free of dirt and blood. He nuzzles into the Exarch's hair, purring softly as he works, healing up cuts and bruises, everything he finds, before slowly working his way back towards his torso, where the worst of the wounds is.

"Of course," he murmurs, hands massaging at the Exarch's body, rubbing and working gently, before finally cleaning the larger wound right in the center, and starting to work on healing it from the core outwards. "Why would I ever do anything else? I could not abandon you to such a fate... ah, take a deep breath, darling, and hold it as long as you can... this is the trickiest part." Working so deeply, shutting his eyes to micromanage the flow of his aether into the wound that cut clear through his beloved friend.

"The most grievous will take the longest time to heal, but just bear with me, G'raha," he murmurs, still staying close, holding him in a way, one hand on the front of his wound, and the other on his back against the other end. "We'll stay safe and sound and warm and clean in this bath until I'm finished."

[centuriesinspired]

The Exarch can only nod as he does as Felih asks, drawing in a long, deep breath and keeping it in as he works the aether. It's nothing to the pain of being shot in the first place but it isn't as pleasant as healing the other, more minor hurts had been. Still, of all that the Exarch has learned in his decades of extended life, patience was among the first.

"Hmn..."

So he remains, still and silent and huddled close to Felih. When he must breathe again he does so in small, shallow gasps. The humming helps and slowly, under the water's surface, the Exarch finds his fingers tapping out a rhythm to Felih's melody against the other's skin.

[seasoflight]

Felih works dutifully, and all the while, Felih murmurs soft comfort and encouragement against G'raha's jaw, trailing soft kisses along it and then down over his neck, his purr strong and steady to comfort his lover.

When he finally finishes, sealing the wound closed on both sides of his torso, Felih lets out a deep breath and moves to simply hug the Exarch tightly, moving to sit in his lap and wrap his arms and legs around him.

"...I'm so glad you're safe," he breathes against him, ears low as he bunts against his shoulder, then up under his chin, purring even more noisily than ever. The water cleanses itself as time goes on, and the constant warmth of the water helps soothe him even more. "You scared me so much, darling. From the moment on Mount Gulg, to this very moment... I feared I'd found you only to lose you again."